


Renegades

by Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brothers, Character Death, Death, Gen, Gun Violence, Minor Character Death, Piercings, Shooting, Tattoos, Young Anatoly Ranskahov, Young Vladimir Ranskahov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 01:24:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8382514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson/pseuds/Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson
Summary: The Russian Mob need funds for their... activities. The houses up on the hill, the Ranskahov family and their neighbours are more than wealthy. It didn't take the mob long to decide what they wanted to do.





	

Vladimir held his younger brother closer in his sleep, his arms tightening at the faint noise of a crash. It pierced through his consciousness, and made his eyes flicker open. Slowly, he rolled over onto his back, blinking his eyes awake. There was a faint light piercing through the too high window lights on the ceiling; it was faint, suggesting that it was the early hours of the morning. Vladimir shuddered a little as the cold air hit his bare chest, and he looked over to see that Anatoly had nicked all of the blanket; the half that he _should_ be under was on the floor, and Anatoly was under the half of blanket that _Vladimir_ should be under.  
  
Laughing under his breath, Vladimir rubbed his eyes, groaning a little before another crash came from downstairs, making him freeze. There was a smash and then there was the distinct voice of his Father, echoing from downstairs; _get out!  
  
_ Vladimir’s head pitched to the side to listen as he slowly stood, being careful not to jog his brother as he did so. He silently made his way over to the window to peer outside.  
  
He wanted to scream.  
  
The nearby homes in the village were lit up. Lights shone out of window, men were being dragged outside and – Vladimir had to look away.  
  
Slowly, he made his way over to attic door, laying on his stomach as he lifted the hatch. The lights downstairs was on, shining through the balusters faintly. Voices drifted up to him, and he strained to here.  
  
“Where’s the money?”

 

“It’s… It’s in the safe. Behind the portrait.”  
  
Vladimir was careful as he leaned out, peering downstairs as best he could. He could make out the figures of his Father and Mother, tied to chairs, struggling against their bonds.  
  
One of the men stood in front of them walked over to the family portrait on the wall, ripping it off and throwing it to the floor.  
  
“What’s the code?”  
  
Silence followed his question.  
  
“CODE!”  
  
Vladimir’s Father looked up, snorting. “Guess.”  
  
Vladimir jumped, and almost fell out of the attic as the sound of a gunshot echoed around the house. His Mother’s head fell back, biting into her lip so hard that Vladimir could see pearls of red on her usually pale lips. Vladimir stared at the blood spot forming on her stomach, ruining the white of her pale yellow nightgown.  
  
It took him a moment to realise that their mother was staring at him and he finally made eye contact, forcing himself not to cry. He followed her eyes in the direction of Anatoly’s room, and he realised that there was a way out of the bathroom; down the rose vine. He used it nearly everytime he was grounded. He gave his Mother a firm nod before edging himself backwards into his room.  
  
Silently, he pushed the hatch back into place.

 

-xox-

 

Vladimir turned his attention to Anatoly, beginning to wake up from the noise downstairs. He was blearily rubbing his eyes, and Vladimir couldn’t help but smile at his 14 year old brother. He looked up at Vladimir, confused, before the sound of a gunshot echoed from downstairs. Vladimir rushed forward to cover his brother’s mouth, wrapping him into a hug with his spare arm. Anatoly began to shake and Vladimir hugged him tightly before standing, silently making his way to the hatch.  
  
Vladimir silently pulled it open and set it to the floor next to him, before he reached over to take the ladder. Anatoly grabbed Vladimir’s arm, eyes wide with fear.  
  
“’Mir, they’re down there.”  
  
Vladimir moved his head as close to his brother as he could, licking his lips. “I know, ‘Toly, but we have to get out.”  
  
Anatoly didn’t seem to take in what his brother said, his eyes staring through the hole in the floor. “They hurt Momma.”  
  
Vladimir hugged his baby brother tightly before moving to once again put the ladder down. The 18 year old silently thanked whatever God might be listening that he snuck out with Iosif as often as possible to see Кино whenever they were in the area.  
  
There was an ever so soft thud when the ladder made contact with the floor below them and Vladimir quickly made sure it was secured before he made his way down it. Making sure to be silent as he checked over the edge – the men were more concerned with looking in the safe now that they had the code to look up – and he beckoned Anatoly down.  
  
They moved silently down the dark hallway, guided only by their knowledge of their childhood home and the faint light from the living room. Vladimir wrapped an arm around his brother as they moved. Peering into the door of his bedroom as they passed it, Anatoly saw it had been ransacked.  
  
A small whimper escaped Anatoly as he realised he could be downstairs with his parents, if he hadn’t snuck upstairs to share a bed with Vladimir.  
  
“Did you hear something?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I thought I heard something upstairs.”  
  
Vladimir and Anatoly froze in the dark and Vladimir dared to look back. Two men were climbing the stairs, guns ready to shoot, and Vladimir quickly ushered his brother to the bathroom. He shut the door and locked it, before leaning on it.  
  
“Out the window.”  
  
“What?!”  
  
“’Toly, listen to me. There is a rose vine out the window. Grab on to it, ignored the thorns. Climb down it and _run_ ; run for your _goddamn life_.”  
  
Anatoly moved forwards to awkwardly hug his brother for a moment before he rushed to the window. He hooked himself up onto the window sill before pressing the window open. Luckily, it was a large window, and Anatoly fit through it with ease. He hissed in pain as his first attempt to grab onto the vine cut his hand open, but he tried again and managed to find a hold as he swung his body down.  
  
_Bang.  
  
Bang.  
  
_ The voices and complaints of his parents stopped.  
  
Vladimir could have sworn he stopped breathing. He felt like everything was being heard underwater suddenly, and he felt tears welling up in his eyes. He had to take a sharp breath to remind himself that _he_ was alive, and then he heard someone pounding on the door.  
  
“This was definitely open when we checked it earlier.”  
  
“Their damn kid is still here then.”  
  
There was silence and Vladimir listened intently. “He must have been in the attic; the ladder’s down now.”  
  
Vladimir moved across the bathroom as silently as he could to peer out the window. Anatoly was still climbing down, and Vladimir knew that the vine wouldn’t hold them both.  
  
There were three sharp thuds on the door to the bathroom and Vladimir took a breath, shutting the window quickly.  
  
Another sharp thud and then a bang. Thud. Thud. Bang. Thud – _crash_.  
  
The door swung open and hands were suddenly on Vladimir before he could even comprehend what was happening.  
  
“This isn’t the one in the photos.”  
  
“They said this one moved out.”  
  
A third person that Vladimir hadn’t seen coming up the stairs rushed out – he picked up the words _second son_ , _one missing_ , _still looking_ , and _check out back_ filtered through to him and he just wished his brother had the sense to run when he got to the bottom of the rose vine.  
  
Vladimir struggled against the hands that held him, deciding if he was going, he wasn’t going without a fight. The men struggled to hold him and then something slammed in his face. His vision went white for a few moments and he felt the sickly thick liquid of blood dripping from his nose. He was thrown to the ground and easily dragged out of the room.  
  
Watching to the side as he was painfully dragged down the stairs, and then into the living room, he felt sick when his parents came into his view.  
  
No.  
  
No, those were his parents’ _bodies_.  
  
Looking to the ceiling, he became heavily aware of the gun barrel pointing directly in between his eyes. He swallowed, slowly, and tried to think his way out of the situation.  
  
“Who are you? What are you here for?”  
  
Silence followed his questions.  
  
“Why did you do this?”  
  
Still, silence followed and two men – Vladimir realised there were only three in the room – made their way to the front door and outside.  
  
The man in front of him, holding the gun, was tall; he was maybe 6 foot 3. He had a heavy build of muscle, tattoos covering most of his hands and neck. He had thick black hair, prominent against the white ceiling above.  
  
The clock on the mantle piece chimed and the man turned around. Vladimir took his chance.  
  
The teenager surged forward, knocking the man to the ground. Immediately, his hand closed around the gun and they struggled with it before the trigger was pulled.  
  
The shot echoed around them and Vladimir panicked for a moment, before he realised there was no pain shooting around his body. Looking down, the man was bleeding from his chest, desperately using his hands to try and push the blood back into his body.  
  
Slowly, the teenager stood up, breathing heavily as he aimed the gun directly at the man’s head. He could see his parents in the mirror that hung above the mantelpiece, and pure anger was surging around his body.  
  
“W-Who are you?”  
  
“My name is Vladimir Ranskahov; and I do not take kindly to the mob.”  
  
Without a second thought, and egged on by his parents behind him, Vladimir pulled the trigger and then turned away. He wanted to be sick the moment he saw his family; they were limp, blood dripping from their wounds slowly to make a small puddle on the floor.  
  
Quickly, Vladimir shoved the gun into the waistband of his jeans – after making sure the safety was on – and moved forward to kiss his parents’ foreheads.  
  
Their skin tasted like iron and salt.  
  
Thankful that he was going to sneak out to a gig that night before his brother had gotten into bed with him, Vladimir pulled his jumper tighter around him and then sprinted out of the house.

 

-xox-

 

The streets were hysteria. People were running around, everyone was screaming, gunshots were echoing… it was almost too much for Vladimir to take in.  
  
But he had to focus, he had to find his brother in the havoc; Anatoly was all he had now and it was Vladimir’s job to get him to safety. He had to think hard; he had to think like Anatoly. Where would his little brother go?  
  
First thing, he had to get around to the back of the house without being shot or kidnapped – easier said than done. Vladimir was forced to press himself to the wall of his house the entire way around and then panic set in.  
  
What if they had caught up with him? What if they had saw him and followed him to the woods?  
  
Taking a breath, Vladimir stood at the bottom of the vine and stared out. The woods glittered weakly due to a few fires that had been started and Vladimir found it somewhat comforting.  
  
All of Anatoly’s friends’ houses had been raided by the mob, so he wouldn’t go there. However, Iosif, Vladimir’s best friend, lived only a half an hour walk away, on the outskirts of the city. The 20 year old lived above his tattoo shop – would Anatoly had remembered the man from the few times he had gone with Vladimir?  
  
It seemed like the best bet and Vladimir sprinted off in the direction to the city.

 

-xox-

 

Vladimir’s fist pounded on the door to the closed tattoo parlour, slamming hard enough to make the glass shake in it’s panes.  
  
“Iosif! Iosif please get up! I need you this is important-”  
  
The door swung open and Vladimir was dragged inside. The familiar scent of tattoo ink and steriliser filled his nose and Vladimir found he could relax ever so slightly.  
  
“You here for a night time tattoo?”  
  
“Anatoly-”  
  
“-is upstairs, getting some stew down him. Poor thing was terrified when he got here. What the hell did you do to him?”  
  
Vladimir didn’t respond, just immediately sprinted up the stairs two at a time, rushing into the small apartment. He slammed into the kitchen to see Anatoly flinch at the sound. Vladimir ran to his brother, hugging him tightly.  
  
“Are you alright? Did they hurt you at all, did you get shot at, did they-”  
  
“I’m fine, ‘Mir.”  
  
Anatoly looked anything _but_ fine; his skin seemed too pale and he was shaking. He was exhausted and looked like he might burst into tears, but Vladimir let out a sigh of relief and tugged his younger brother into his arms.  
  
“Vlad.”  
  
Vladimir turned his head so he could watch Iosif from the corner of his eye.  
  
“You’re bleeding.”  
  
Vladimir stepped back to stare at the blood on his shirt, and then shook his head. “It’s not mine. I shot… I… I killed one of them.”  
  
Iosif stared at him in horror for a moment before taking a breath. “You killed a member of the Russian Mob?”  
  
“He was pointing a gun in my face and he sent his disgusting goons after Anatoly.”  
  
Iosif put his hands up as though he were surrendering. “I’m not beating you up about it… that seriously demands respect, Vlad.”  
  
“What are you gonna do about it? Tattoo something on me that tells the world what I did?”  
  
“If you want me to.”  
  
Vladimir hesitated, staring at Anatoly who was wiping away silent tears and finishing the stew in his bowl. He thought about a visible mark on his body, something to scare people away from him and Anatoly and licked his lips.  
  
Looking back at Iosif, he nodded. “What would it be?”  
  
“It’s a sideways skull, with a crown upon it’s head. I’ve done so many, I’ve lost count.”  
  
“What does it mean?”  
  
“Within the criminal world, it means that you’ve killed someone of significance, someone that was important. It’s a total turn off for most people to give you trouble.”  
  
“It… It sounds okay. Let me get Anatoly to bed and then we can downstairs… do you have somewhere he can sleep?”  
  
“Yeah, he can take my bed. Some old clothes that’ll be too big for him that he can wear for pyjamas in the drawers. Bottom one.”  
  
Vladimir nodded and waited for his little brother to finish the stew in front of him before leading him through to his new sleeping accomdations for the night.

 

-xox-

 

Vladimir turned his head to watch Anatoly in the dim light. The moment Vladimir had gone to leave the room, Anatoly had begged him not to, so now he was asleep in the spare tattoo chair on the other side of the room.  
  
He was curled up as tightly as possible, blinking rapidly in REM sleep, and sucking on a too big shirt sleeve.  
  
Vladimir couldn’t help but smile before he turned to focus on Iosif as the sound of the tattoo gun started. Vladimir gave his left hand to Iosif before he relaxed into the leather.  
  
“So… What happened? I heard Anatoly’s side but...”  
  
“I woke up and couldn’t figure out what woke me until I heard another crash. I peered down through the hatch and saw Mom and Dad being held hostage. Mom told me to take Tol and to get out.”  
  
“She… told you?”  
  
Vladimir watched him a moment. “She signalled me.”  
  
Iosif nodded and then continued to work on the skull.  
  
“I sent ‘Toly out the bathroom window, same route I use for getting into your car for concerts. I told him to run for his goddamn life and he did. I’m just grateful he was smart enough to come here.”  
  
Iosif paused in his work to glance at the smaller Ranskahov shuffling a little in the tattoo chair before settling down.  
  
“How old is he again?”  
  
“14 and no, he’s not getting a tattoo. He’s just a kid.”  
  
“I am not just a kid!”  
  
Vladimir watched his brother sit up on the bed, his neck -length hair messed up, sleeve in his mouth, and tried not to smile. He wondered how long he’d been awake for, how much he’d heard.  
  
“’Mir, I think tonight means I’m no longer classed as a child!”  
  
“Toly-”  
  
“-I don’t want to be a kid anymore! Shit happens when you’re a kid!”  
  
“Shit happened to me tonight too, Toly.”  
Silence fell across the room, and Anatoly lay back down, curling up in his blanket, to stare at the ceiling.  
  
“’Toly, I have to look after you now. I’m trying to protect you.”  
  
“Maybe I don’t need your protection.”  
  
“Both of you need to shut up.” The hum of the tattoo gun stopped and Iosif sat up, looking between the two brothers.  
  
“I don’t know exactly what happened in your house tonight, or in your village. But what I do know is that the fact that you two survived is a goddamned miracle. The fact that Vladimir killed one of them is probably the only reason you’re currently alive. You should be bloody grateful that Vladimir sleeps in the attic, they more than likely thought that there would be no one in there.”  
  
Both brothers looked down.  
  
“What you two went through tonight is horrifying, I’m not even going to try to deny that; but because of that, you two need to be looking after each other, not arguing like this. Anatoly, believe me, you need your brother’s protection, and Vladimir, you need to learn not to underestimate your little brother.”  
  
They swallowed a little and Anatoly got up, moving to sit next to Vladimir. Vladimir reached out his right hand, squeezing Anatoly’s right.  
  
“Iosif is right… I’m sorry, ‘Toly, I just… panicked and got overpotective.”  
  
“I know and I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to yell.”  
  
The hum of the tattoo gun started again, and the two brothers sat where they were, gladly giving into exhaustion.

 

-xox-

 

When Vladimir woke the next morning, he stretched, feeling the tight cling film around his hand. It squeaked as he moved around, and he winced. Sitting up, he realised he was in Iosif’s living room, and then looked down at his hand. He examined the tattoo through the clear material, not really bothered. Iosif always did a good job.  
  
He got up quickly, moving into the bathroom to find his clothes – and a new shirt – neatly folded for him. He got dressed, ignoring the gun that sat on the side next to the sink.  
  
Upon making his way downstairs, he found Iosif and Anatoly behind the counter – Anatoly was helping Iosif sort the new piercing delivery he had received that morning.  
  
Vladimir couldn’t help the smile on his face as Anatoly ran to him, wrapping his arms tightly around his brother. His arms wrapped around his younger brother, and Vlad gave him a squeeze. “Hey, bud.”  
  
Iosif smiled before moving to push the piercing box away behind the counter.  
  
“Vlad, can I get a piercing?”  
  
“God no.”  
  
“Vlad!”  
  
Vladimir sighed. “What do you want?”  
  
“A lip ring.”  
  
Vladimir rolled his eyes. “No.”  
  
Anatoly frowned up at him. “Why not?!”  
  
“How about you get your ears done first?”  
  
Anatoly rolled his eyes and then moved to sit back down behind the counter, fiddling with the appointment book.  
  
“Iosif said I could get my lip pierced!”  
  
“Actually, I said if your brother agreed.”  
  
Vladimir chuckled, sitting down on one of the spare chairs laying around before sighing. “Ears. I agree to your ears.”  
  
“Can I get _anywhere_ on my ear pierced?”  
  
Vladimir hesitated before sighing. “Mhm.”  
  
“Iosif can you do my tragus?”  
  
“Sure can, kiddo; go hop on the chair in the piercing corner.”  
  
Vladimir watched them a moment before he stared at the floor.  
  
He had _murdered_ someone last night. He had shot him and stolen his life. He had taken someone’s _life_.  
  
_Don’t be too hard on yourself. They murdered Mom and Pop.  
  
_ Vladimir shook his head, trying to rid his head of the thoughts that were plaguing him before he laughed at the shriek he heard from Anatoly.  
  
“You said on three! That was one!”  
  
“If I had said three, you would have tensed up!”  
  
Vladimir sat up, gladly tugging Anatoly onto his lap when he came rushing over minutes later.  
  
“It looks good, ‘Toly.”  
  
“You should get one!”  
  
Vladimir chuckled. “I’ll stick with my tattoos.”  
  
“Can I get a tattoo?”  
  
Vladimir frowned and then looked at Iosif, who was disinfecting the chair Anatoly had been sitting on. He looked up and gave a shrug.  
  
_I’m fine with it, but it’s your decision.  
  
_ Vladimir sighed. “Fine. But something small, and I mean _small_ , Iosif.”  
  
Anatoly gently ran his fingers over the clingfilm on his brother’s hand – he’d always been fascinated by his older brother’s tattoos, but was always gentle when examining them.  
  
“Iosif, what’s the criminal symbol for _orphan_?”  
  
“Toly-”  
  
“-I mean it! I want it.”  
  
“It’s just a circe with a dot in it; it’s small.”  
  
Vladimir sighed and watched his brother before nodding. Iosif immediately went to set up a tattoo gun.

 

-xox-

 

Vladimir took hold of his little brother’s hand, 24 years old now. They stood in the doorway and looked around their new American apartment. He brushed his thumb over the back of Anatoly’s hand and felt the familiar wear of the circle on his hand, hidden amongst the many tattoos prominent on Anatoly’s skin.  
  
Turning his head, he stared out the window to his right, smiling at the sun shining down between the clouds.  
  
_We made it to safety, Mom, Pop. I’ll keep him safe. I’ll keep him safe until I die.  
  
_ He felt Anatoly’s hand moving over the soft skin of the washed out skull on his hand and Vladimir smiled.  
  
“We made it Toly, we made it – and I promise you _no one_ is going to take our family away from us again.”


End file.
